


For the Cameras

by Dramione_Vincet_Semper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione_Vincet_Semper/pseuds/Dramione_Vincet_Semper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Classified: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger aren't *really* a couple... or are they? For Dracoskywalker on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Cameras

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dracoskywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dracoskywalker).



‘Give me a kiss,’ said Malfoy. ‘ _Darling.’_

Hermione rolled her eyes. ’You drive me crazy, _sweetheart,’_ she said sarcastically.

‘The cameras,’ Malfoy whispered. ‘They’re watching.’

He put his hands on her hips.

‘Hey!’

‘The cameras, Granger!’

x

Hermione sighed.

‘How much _longer?’_

‘It’s not that bad,’ Malfoy said pointedly, his signature smirk twisting his lips. ‘You’re with me.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

Malfoy wasn’t smiling anymore.

‘We made a deal. You can’t back out now,’ he said.

Hermione sighed again. ‘I know,’ she said.

She did know.

She had known for weeks. In fact, the Order had informed her that she would be dating Draco Malfoy before he had even asked her out.

Of course, it was all a farce. The Order needed money to reconstruct after the war, and access to information regarding the Death Eaters that had yet to be captured. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, wanted the reputation that came along with being the boyfriend of Hermione Granger, Muggle-born and war hero. It would help his family’s public image.

She hated it, and hated him. But hate was an exciting emotion, and so Hermione Granger was never bored.

Just then, an owl flew through the window.

‘Get ready,’ said Malfoy, after reading the note. ‘ _Witch Weekly_ wants an interview with us, since they think you’re living at the Manor now.’

Hermione groaned.

_No_ , she thought. She was never bored.

x

‘I still don’t get it, Hermione!’ Ron said, as she stirred her tea and desperately avoided his and Harry’s gazes. ‘You’re dating _Malfoy?_ You’re _living_ with him?’

‘He’s not that bad, Ron,’ she replied, but Ron cut her off.

‘We had to find out from a _tabloid_ , Hermione! Half the wizarding world knew before we did!’

‘Hermione…’ said Harry, when she opened her mouth to speak. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

Although she wasn’t _really_ dating Malfoy, Hermione was close to tears. She didn’t want to put her friendships at stake, not for anything.

‘I was afraid of what you would say,’ she said, blinking away the wetness building along her lashes.

Disappointment blazed in Harry’s emerald irises and Hermione felt shame crawl down her neck.

‘You know we’re always here for you, Hermione. You’re the sister I never had.’ He stood. ‘I just wish you’d have been honest with us.’

Harry left a Galleon on the table to pay for his butterbeer before walking away.

Hermione gripped her tea in her hands, hoping the warmth would calm her down. It didn’t.

‘So, what is it?’

She looked up from her tea, and almost wished she hadn’t. She hadn’t seen such an expression cross his face since their fourth year, when Harry had been chosen to play in the Triwizard Tournament.

‘What do you mean, Ron?’ she asked. Her voice sounded very small, even to her.

‘Is it the money? Is that it? Or—’

‘ _Ronald!_ How _dare_ you—’

‘Or are you just into Seekers?’ he asked, his expression darkening further. ‘That’s got to be it, hasn’t it? You can’t possibly _fancy_ the git.’

Hermione blinked. She and Ron had never really explored what they might have been to each other. But after everything they’d been through, she just wanted some normalcy. Remaining _friends_ with her best friends had provided that for her.

Apparently, Ron felt rather differently.

His expression softened as the silence wore on, and then he seemed to deflate, his shoulders drooping as he sighed.

‘Hermione,’ he said eventually, ‘what is it?’

She couldn’t lie to him, not now. But she had sworn to the Order not to tell the truth.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, picking through her memories for nice things to say about her supposed boyfriend. ‘I enjoy his company. He’s…’

Insufferable? Funny? Lazy? Intelligent? Obstinate? At times, thoughtful? She had spent so much time around Malfoy over the past few weeks that she had begun to see more to him than simply his sneer and hardened exterior.

‘There’s just something about him,’ she said at length, in order to spare Ron’s feelings, as well as her own.

x

Hermione gripped her quill, sighing as her eyes scanned Draco’s face. ‘You’re _positive_ there’s nothing new?’

‘I’m sure, Granger. If the Death Eaters are mobilising, they’ve kept quiet about it.’

Her heart sank. More than anything, she wished she had been able to gather more intelligence on the Death Eaters still at large. Then, she mused, at least this predicament with Draco would have been worth everything it had put her through. Then, she could smile through Harry and Ron’s awkward silences, because then, she would be armed with the knowledge that the information that the Auror Department acted on had come from her. It would be just like old times—Hermione solving a puzzle, and her boys resolving it.

But there had been no news for _weeks_ , and Hermione was growing despondent.

Draco’s fingers brushed over her hand, startling her out of her thoughts.

‘What—?’

‘You’re going to break the quill if you keep holding it like that,’ he said, plucking it from her grasp. His hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before he slipped away to stare out the window.

x

It was a brisk Tuesday morning when Draco stumbled home to the Manor, sporting torn robes and a black eye.

‘Merlin, Draco, where have you _been_ —is that blood?’

Draco swiped at his nose. ‘Looks like it,’ he said, his tone as dry as his face was wet.

Hermione pulled out her wand and checked him for other injuries. ‘Episkey,’ she murmured, and his nose snapped back to its usual shape.

‘What happened?’ Concern bubbled up inside her like a potion gone bad.

‘Ran into some old _friends_ ,’ he said as he rubbed at his newly healed nose.

Hermione stared.

‘Draco, the—the Death Eaters did this to you?’

‘You can’t possibly think your information comes for free, can you?’ He healed a cut on his arm with a flick of his wand. ‘Let’s just say they aren’t exactly pleased.’

Hermione had no idea what to say to that. On the one hand, it was clear that the Death Eaters didn’t _approve_ of her blood status, and that made her blood boil.

On the other, Draco had wittingly put himself into danger, for her.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ is all she decided to say, once her brain had regained control of her mouth.

But images of Death Eaters and a bloodied, broken Draco flooded her mind as, in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and revealed the damage that had been done there.

‘Draco…’

‘Don’t worry about it, Granger, I can heal this myself—’

‘No,’ she said, as she began to heal his chest. ‘I just don’t want you to go back.’

She had said it before her mind had fully worked it through, but it was the truth. As valuable as the information would be to have, she couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to him because of her. Hermione simply didn’t have it in herself to live with that sort of guilt.

Draco’s face was impossible to read.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, more softly this time. ‘I’ve convinced them that I’m using you.’

‘...Aren’t you?’ she asked. Because at the end of the day, that was the truth, wasn’t it? That had been the reason for their arrangement in the first place.

Draco threw her a sharp look. ‘And you’re not?’

Hermione ducked her head as she healed his wounds, because at the end of the day, she was.

She didn’t know what it was, then, but she knew that something between them had changed.

x

‘Do we _have_ to?’

‘We have to go out every now and again, Granger. Otherwise the public will never believe we’re together.’

She sighed. He was right. But it was cold outside, and she would rather curl up with a book than traipse around Diagon Alley on Draco’s arm.

They Apparated to Diagon Alley anyway, where it was much colder than she had anticipated. She shivered when the breeze froze her to the spot and Draco pulled her closer to his chest, as though on instinct. She let him. Draco Malfoy was many things, but most importantly to Hermione at the moment: he was warm.

‘How about some butterbeer?’ he asked, wrapping his arm around her middle.

She nodded against him and they walked, all but intertwined, to the nearest pub.

The pub was warm and the butterbeer left her feeling warmer. Between the warmth spreading throughout her with every sip, and Draco’s arms, she felt she never wanted to move again.

Cameras flashed, but for once, Hermione couldn’t care less.

Eventually, they left the pub for the frigid outdoors. It had begun to snow, and Hermione shivered in the wind.

‘This way,’ said Draco, pulling her by the hand towards an alleyway. ‘It won’t be as cold.’

It was warmer there, but still she shuddered, so Draco pulled her against his side again.

It was just him and her and the snow. Hermione led them towards the bookstore, but soon, Draco stopped her.

‘Kiss me, Granger,’ Draco said. ‘For the cameras,’ he added, in less than a heartbeat.

‘I don’t think there are any cameras here, Draco,’ she said, glancing around to see if she saw anyone. She didn’t.

He tugged on her sleeve. ‘Kiss me.’

Frowning a little at the odd request, Hermione stood on her toes and kissed him.

His mouth was warm and startlingly soft. Whether it was that, or something else, that drove all thought from her mind when their lips met, she wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, Hermione stopped thinking as his mouth moved over hers.

When they finally arrived at the bookstore, Draco’s lips were quite pink and his hair was tousled. She decided it was a good look for him.

x

Kingsley waved his wand at the door so they wouldn’t be heard.

‘How is your mission going?’

‘It’s going… well,’ she said, willing herself not to flush.

It indeed was going well; Draco had given her new information the night before about the Lestrange brothers, and she was confident that it could lead to their arrest.

‘I’ll say,’ said Kingsley. He held up a newspaper.

There was a picture of her and Draco on the front page. They were stood in the alley behind the bookstore, kissing in the snow.

She had known Draco had wanted to kiss her for the cameras. He had told her himself.

Why, then, did she feel so disappointed?

‘Oh,’ she said after a moment, realising she had been quiet for too long. ‘That was Draco’s idea.’

Kingsley raised a brow. ‘Interesting to see that Mr. Malfoy is so _dedicated_ to the cause.’

But to her relief, he let the topic lie, and when she told him everything Draco had said to her about the Lestranges, Kingsley seemed impressed.

x

January melted away and the snow went with it, giving way to wintry February sunshine. Draco had come home late a few times more, but never looking the worse for wear. Hermione had continued to relay to Kingsley everything Draco told her, and Kingsley had continued to be pleased with Draco’s work.

‘Bring him here,’ he told her one day. ‘I’d like a word.’

She nodded. Hermione knew better than most that some words were simply too sensitive for owl post.

Seeing Draco stood inside Number 12, Grimmauld Place was surreal, but somehow felt right. It was seeing her past and her future intertwined and seeing that yes, they did fit together. After all, she would be pretending to date Draco for a while longer… wouldn’t she?

Hermione hid her smile behind her hair when he entered the basement kitchen. ‘So? How’d it go?’

‘That’s classified, Granger,’ he said with a smirk, coming up behind her to grab one of the butterbeers she’d set out.

Her smile widened. Draco Malfoy, working for the Order of the Phoenix. That felt right, too.

x

It wasn’t until Valentine’s Day drew closer that Hermione realised.

She avoided him at first, spending extra hours in her office at the Ministry on the weekdays. In the evenings, she would stop by Grimmauld to see Harry and sometimes Ron, before eventually dragging her feet towards the Floo to go back to the Manor.

But then she would be stuck in her bed with her thoughts swirling through her head, trying and failing to sleep.

She wasn’t sure, looking back, when it had begun. All she knew was that Valentine’s Day was almost upon them, and every time she thought of it in terms of how she would spend it with Draco, her heart fluttered to a fault. She felt like a fifth year in Madam Puddifoot’s every time it happened. She felt _ridiculous_.

Valentine’s Day morning dawned just as any other Saturday had. She woke up and got dressed, paying extra care to her hair before she headed down for breakfast.

Draco was sat at the dining table, reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and picking at a piece of toast.

‘Morning, Granger,’ he said noncommittally, not even bothering to glance up from the article he was reading.

It hurt. She had been expecting— _something_ —

But she had been ridiculous to think he would do anything special. After all, he didn’t have to act like he cared for her when they were behind closed doors…

‘Morning, Malfoy,’ she said, as she sat herself down at the table. If he found her use of his surname odd, he didn’t show it.

‘An owl came for you.’ He motioned towards a tiny roll of parchment on the table.

Scanning it, Hermione’s mood sank lower. Kingsley wanted to meet with her that evening to discuss her mission. She had hoped to do _something_ special today, even if it was with her friends; because while Hermione was often practical about such things, there was still something about ignoring a holiday based on love that made her feel rather alone.

She Flooed to Grimmauld Place later that day and was nearly blown backwards into the grate.

‘Surprise!’

Hermione looked around through her armful of Ginny Weasley. Harry and Ron were stood by the door, trying for smiles. Draco stood beside them, not trying to smile at all.

She looked between the lot of them.

‘I take it Kingsley _doesn’t_ want to see me,’ she said drily.

Ginny released her from her hug. ‘I knew they called you the “brightest witch of your age” for a reason,’ she said, grinning.

She grabbed Hermione by the hand and dragged her off towards the kitchen. ‘I hope you know he wanted to take you out somewhere,’ she whispered hurriedly, ‘but he said with the Death Eaters around, it wasn’t safe—’

Ginny cut herself off as the boys reached the bottom of the stairs, but Hermione’s mind was racing. Now that she thought about it, they hadn’t been out together since he’d first come home covered in wounds. And she so rarely went anywhere besides the Ministry, or the heavily warded homes of her friends…

‘Right, Weaslette, I’d like my girlfriend back, if you wouldn’t mind,’ said Draco, taking Hermione’s hand from Ginny.

Even though it wasn’t real, Hermione’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Actually, Malfoy, we’d like a word with her first,’ said Harry, rubbing his forehead awkwardly.

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘At this rate, I’ll be lucky to see her before Valentine’s Day is over,’ he said. He rubbed his thumb over Hermione’s hand once before disappearing into the kitchen.

‘Harry, what’s going on—?’

‘We just want you to be happy,’ he said, eyes boring into hers.

It was the first time the topic had come up since that day two months ago before, when Harry and Ron had confronted her about the _Witch Weekly_ article. She looked from Harry to Ron, uncertain of what to say, but then they hugged her and Ginny was pushing her towards the kitchen door and she was grinning from ear to ear at their acceptance of her relationship.

Even if it wasn't real.

The table had been transfigured to be much smaller—small enough to seat two. A single candle sat between the dinner plates, and Draco stood nearby, waiting. He straightened when she entered.

‘I’m surprised Potter and Weasley didn’t invite themselves in,’ he joked, ruining the moment.

‘Draco… What is all of this?’

Draco grimaced. ‘It was Potter’s idea. He said you’d appreciate this more than a box of chocolates, and flowers that would just die,’ he told her, the words cynical from his lips but true nevertheless.

They sat down together. She chose her next words carefully.

‘Are things really that bad?’ _Well_ , she thought, _so much for wording things carefully_.

‘That I would go to Potter for advice?’ he spat, although his tone was more self-deprecating than angry. ‘Looks like it, Granger.’

‘The Death Eaters,’ she corrected, the cogs in her head turning as she tried to figure him out. ‘Are things so bad that you’d—’

She cut herself off.

Nothing added up; Draco spying on the Death Eaters when he didn't strictly have to, Draco asking Harry for advice, Draco working for the Order… None of it made sense.

_Unless…_

‘Draco…’

Unless he’d done it all for her.

‘Let’s eat,’ he said, ruining the moment yet again, but not the mood. They ate and drank and a bottle of wine later, he was pulling her close.

‘Draco Malfoy, a lightweight,’ she said, smiling against his cheek. ‘Who would have thought?’

‘You’re one to talk, Granger,’ he said, as his fingers moved to brush her hair aside and became tangled in it instead. ‘You’re blushing.’

She flushed more deeply, and didn’t bother to correct him on the nature of her rosy complexion.

‘Thank you for this. I wasn’t expecting anything,’ she fibbed after a few moments.

‘Expect more next time,’ he said. She scarcely had a moment to wonder what he meant by _that_ before he said, ‘Now how about a kiss, Granger? For the cameras, of course.’

He’d untangled his fingers from her hair by the time she had decided she might _not_ have a response to that that didn’t involve kissing him, cameras or no.

‘I knew that one wouldn’t work twice,’ he said, when she didn't say anything.

She smacked him on the shoulder, and when she reached out again he flinched; but she merely pulled him to her and closed the distance. And then his fingers tangled in her hair, quite thoroughly this time, and they spent the remainder of their Valentine’s Day very happily indeed, an unlikely couple in an unlikely place, sharing an evening of normalcy in what was sure to be an abnormal life.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Some parts of this story were formatted from Spanish, so sorry if it's a little clunky in translation. I feel that this fic actually reads better in Spanish, so I'll put out a Spanish version when I have the time.
> 
> I hope you like it hun!


End file.
